


Hot Girls, Bubble Gum

by mamdible



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cisswap, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, Multi, because im gay, i'll add other pairings like aokaga or other shit later, look if imayoshi was a girl i'd smash 100/100, whatever the fuck it's called essentially Imayoshi is a hot girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamdible/pseuds/mamdible
Summary: A collection of various pairings with gender changes, mainly focused around Imayoshi.





	1. Hanamiya Makoto/Imayoshi Shouichi

**Author's Note:**

> hahahahhh im gay and this is entirely self indulgent. if u jack off to this shit pls leave kudos or comments, or if you think i might be ok at writing.

Imayoshi Shouichi is a woman of many talents – captain of the girl’s basketball team, honour student, and a little bit of a slut. Not that anyone can call her that without their social lives toppling to the dirt, but even so, it’s true. 

She doesn’t exactly date anyone; romance and its by-products don’t interest her at all, but sex (when clearly removed from emotion) is actually rather wonderful. Imayoshi discovered this in middle school, after a string of rather unsuccessful and viciously boring relationships.

In hindsight, it was a rather fucked up event; an older student, fifteen years old, taking the virginity of a fourteen year old. Not such a large age gap, but still, quite unsavoury in the eyes of others. 

The affair was amicable, but also impersonal. It didn’t exactly feel good, but as there was no expectation that she perform well, or enjoy it, as they were both largely strangers, it was somewhat freeing.

And it had piqued her interest. She was clumsy in the beginning, unaware of how to approach those she wanted to fuck, but she got better. Imayoshi was always a quick learner. She, of course, kept her feelings forcefully separated from her activities. 

Others did not.

So maybe she did leave a trail of broken hearts behind her as she graduated from middle school to high school. It didn’t – doesn’t – matter to her. To Imayoshi Shouichi, very little matters outside of her own success.

Really, the only reason she’s thinking of any of this at all is because Hanamiya Makoto has her by the collar of her uniform, pressed up against the unpainted brick wall of her apartment, where she lives alone. 

It’s a little scary, that Makoto knows where she lives, knows that she lives alone, but she knows where he lives, too. He might not live alone, but that just means he lives with weaknesses, ones she can exploit.

He’s spitting mad, face flushed and eyes wild. There’s no façade of coolness, of impersonal cruelty and assuredness, and something about the vulnerability fascinates her. 

“What’s the matter, Makoto?”, she asks, voice sickly sweet. He flinches a little as she says his name, which is both adorable and rather sad. She might have been his first; first what, she doesn’t know. First time? First crush? First heartbreak?

“Are you mad because you lost to Seirin?”

The fist tightens, pulling her closer to him. She lets him, just because its fun, playing the helpless damsel in distress – especially since they both know that of the two of them, Imayoshi has a far bigger repertoire as a delinquent. She’s stronger than him, and letting him push her around is a bit of a game.

“You fucking bitch,” he hisses, and then she presses against him and wraps his mouth in a kiss. She’s good at kissing, knows how to part her mouth and push her tongue into his, knows how to get him reciprocating.

Ten, twenty seconds later he pushes her away, face even more flushed. He is rather adorable, when he’s like this. Imayoshi has already decided she’s going to sleep with him, and she knows he has too. 

So she turns on her heel, adds a little sway to her hips (thank god she’s wearing her pretty panties beneath her school skirt, it simply wouldn’t do to be caught with plain white, let alone beige) and walks down the hallway. 

Not many men have been in her bedroom – not many have been in her apartment at all. With girls, it’s a different story, because girls are always a different story. 

Now that she thinks about it, Makoto does look rather like a girl. Big eyes, round face and shoulder length bob – adds up to a very androgynous look. She feels him palm at her ass, gently groping. For all that he’s easy to rile up, and a bit of an incel, he is rather lecherous when in the right situation. 

“Eager, huh?”

There’s a low growl from behind her, a noise of pure frustration. It’s music to her ears. Her bedroom is pink with black accents on the wallpaper. Its clean, organised, and doesn’t look lived in at all. Nothing to embarrass her, even though its unlikely she could feel shame if she wanted to.

She sits down daintily on her bed, angling her chest out and looking up at Hanamiya. He looks furious, face twisted in the ugly snarl he rarely lets show. Then he pushes her back on the bed, and the fun begins.

He doesn’t even bother taking off her panties, just pulls them to the side and worms his middle finger in. She’s already pretty wet, so it doesn’t exactly hurt, but it doesn’t feel very nice, either. 

Makoto fingers her brutally, fucking into her and adding a finger whenever he decides she’s ready for it. He’s usually right, and the ferocity of it is pretty exciting. Then suddenly, just when the jabbing and twisting started to feel pretty good, the fingers are gone, and he’s pulling up her shirt.

Imayoshi twists a bit, helps him get off the shirt. There’s an urgency about the man – boy, really, but she’s not a woman yet either – above her, the way he doesn’t bother to take off her bra, only slides his hands beneath it and cups her tits almost desperately.

Then her panties are around her ankles and his erection is freed from tented (and thoroughly ruined) boxers. He pushes in without hesitation, hard and big inside her. He lets out a huff when he’s inside, an exhale of breath signifying relief or something like that.

Then he starts thrusting, wildly, frantically. It feels good, his fingers scratching at her hips, his dick pushing at the walls of her cunt. It feels painful, and that is what she needs now and always.

It goes on for nearly half an hour before he comes, climaxing with a shout. She isn’t exactly sated, but she didn’t expect to be, and once he leaves she’ll bounce up and down on her vibrator. She’s only ever actually orgasmed when she was with Harasawa, or Susa, or any single girl (much more satisfying, sleeping with girls, but she likes the power high she gets from fucking with boy’s heads).

He pulls out nearly immediately, and she thanks god she’s on the pill. Either way, cum leaking out of her doesn’t feel very pleasant, and she knows he knows that, and he knows she knows he knows that, so the little cretin definitely did it on purpose. 

“Makoto, aren’t you going to sleep over?”, she coos. He won’t – as much as he’s attracted to her, as much as he hates her, he’s also incredibly scared of her. He won’t stay in the same room as her for more than an hour or two, let alone sleep over.

He doesn’t reply, and she knows she’s won this round.


	2. Aomine Daiki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine gets entranced by a pair of tits and Imayoshi has another pawn fall into her grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah lowkey jealous i cant raw Imayoshi myself (tit version only, of course)

The boy’s basketball team ace is rather annoying. Wakamatsu complains about him to Momoi constantly, and Momoi relays these complaints alongside a stream of other information relevant to the performance of both boy’s and girl’s basketball teams. 

His name is Aomine Daiki. He’s sixteen, 190 centimetres, power forward and apparent genius. He is also lazy, rude, a slob, and he never attends practise – various complaints from Momoi.

If Aomine was a girl, Imayoshi is sure she could find a use for him on her team. He isn’t, though, so she makes do with what she has. Her team is good, for sure, and they take home first place in every competition under her reign as captain, but she wouldn’t mind another genius beneath her.

So she’s hanging out right outside the boys lockers, unlit cigarette dangling from her lips (it’s only for show, she wouldn’t ever risk her lungs like that) and waiting patiently for Aomine to get out of the showers.

Today is one of the rare days when he actually shows up to practise, even stayed late. She doesn’t care why: all she cares about is that he will be alone. And if he’s alone, he’s vulnerable.

Sure enough, he storms out the propped open doors, gym bag slung over his shoulder and porn mag clenched tightly in his fist. Not that Imayoshi has anything against porn, but reading it in public seems… tacky. 

Then again, Momoi did say he was an awful brute.

“Hey!”, she calls, pitching her voice higher (dumber) than her usual husky tone. He looks over his shoulder at her, brows furrowed – he does seem to be in a rather awful mood. She’d wonder why, but she doesn’t care enough.

“Aomine Daiki, right? Satsuki told me about you.”

He nods, not moving, eyes fixed on her tits. How uncouth. She, however, is in no position to judge; she likes breasts as much as he does, even if she goes for smaller ones.

“Ah… do you mind teaching me a little about your…”, and here she pauses for just a second, shifts her weight and angles herself forward because if he’s going to ogle her she might as well play to her strengths, “techniques?”

Now he’s flushed, and its obvious for all his promiscuity he hasn’t fucked around that much. Most teenage boys are similar to him, so she isn’t exactly surprised, but amused? Definitely. 

“Sure,” he says, voice gruff. He isn’t that hot – Sakurai is more to her tastes, or Momoi or even Hanamiya – but there is a certain beauty about him, she can’t deny that.

“Great! You wanna come to my place? It’s just five minutes away, and my parents aren’t home.”

To the end of her sentence she adds a sultry lilt, ‘cause even though she’s got him hooked extra incentive never hurt anyone. He doesn’t even realise he’s walked into her trap, just nods quickly.

The trip is, as she said, five minutes. She fills the walk with idle chatter, and Aomine strolls behind her, eyes never leaving her ass. Imayoshi knows he isn’t listening, but she doesn’t care all that much.

True to her word, her parents aren’t home when she lets herself inside the tiny box house her dad bought for an insane price. Neither is her little sister; still at basketball practise or choir or ballet or something.

She has the house to herself, and to her rather interesting guest.

He toes off his shoes quickly, eager to come inside, and his eyes wander around every inch of the foyer and what he can glimpse of the kitchen. Is it his first time visiting a girl’s house? That’d be pretty cute.

“Let’s go up to my room.”

It’s not a request, but rather a command. Imayoshi is, after all, very good at making people think she’s asking when in fact she is demanding. It makes them all the more compliant, just as Aomine is when she leads him up the stairs by the hand, trailing along behind her obediently.

Her room is pretty cute – pink walls, lush carpet, and furniture covered in black lacquer. Usually it’s absolutely spotless and organised, but in preparation for today she left a lacy black bra hanging over the chair at her desk, and a skirt plus a pair of panties on the floor.

Aomine is looking at them, and she is looking at his crotch, because he is already sporting a sizeable erection. It presses against his pants, tenting them obviously. Not exactly arousing but still… cute.

“Oh! Aomine, are you okay? That looks really painful. Do you… want some help?”

The lines are straight from a porno, but they work (and obviously Aomine has vested interest in pornography, as evidenced by the magazine hastily shoved into his bag sometime during the walk) and Aomine is flushed, with a peculiar expression of focus on his face.

Then he reaches down and unzips his pants, pulls down his boxers, and lets his weeping erection spring free. He’s fairly big; bigger than Hanamiya, and Wakamatsu, but Susa is bigger, and Momoi definitely has fucked her with bigger straps (plus, those vibrate, which is a definite gain for her).

She licks her lips, not because she’s anticipating tasting it (god no, she hardly ever gives out blow jobs – eating out pussy, though, that’s a different story) but rather so Aomine thinks she is.

Then she starts to unbutton her blouse, slowly and carefully. It falls off her shoulders, revealing toned arms and abs and also C cup tits without a bra. It takes Aomine a moment to realize that she hasn’t been wearing a bra presumably for the whole school day, and when he does, he chokes. 

“Aomine…”, she breathes, caressing one stiff nipple (the airconditioner is on, and her room is very cold). He doesn’t need much more encouragement, stepping forward hastily and grabbing her boobs. He isn’t gentle, squeezing and pulling and pushing, but she hasn’t ever really liked gentle.

While he’s distracted with her chest, she reaches down, slipping a hand under her skirt and pulling her panties down to her thighs. Difficult, since she’s sitting down, but it doesn’t matter.

Again, she doesn’t need lube, or spit or anything; her pussy gets pretty wet on its own, which is nice, because if she were the type who needed lube to fuck, she’d waste a fortune on that alone. She is, of course, rather sexually active.

Imayoshi shoves a finger in, thankful that her nails are clipped short, and starts rubbing little circles into the walls of her cunt. It’s more pleasant than Aomine pinching and twisting at her nipples.

“Daiki, Daiki, I need you here,”, she moans, grabs his dick and guides it to her. It slips in silkily and he lets out a little gasp. 

Then he goes absolutely buckshit wild, thrusting his hips and forgoing her tits at all. Its like he’s not a man at all but rather a wild animal – the thought amuses her for a second, but she forgets it as the movements stop being awkward and start hitting all the right spots inside of her.

She enjoys sex. Its fun, it feels good, and it allows her to relate and interact with others in a way that she just… can’t otherwise. In layman’s terms, her inability to empathise with her peers outside of physical touch has led to her being a bit of a nymphomaniac.

That’s not much fun to think about, though, so instead she focuses on how she feels, and starts rubbing at her clit. Aomine’s enthusiasm might actually make her cum – the thought surprises her, but there’s heat building in her gut and yes, yes, she’s right on the edge.

She whites out for a minute, and when she comes back to her body Aomine is still thrusting, but his hips are jerky, shaking. He’s close, so she cants her hips at a certain angle and clenches down.

It’s a little painful, a little too sensitive on her raw nerves but she doesn’t care. He’s coming in barely a second, mouth open in a soundless shout. She scuttles backward, and his dick slips out of her just as easily as it slipped in.

“I’m going to take a shower. Thanks for this, Aomine. Let’s do it again sometime.”


	3. Momoi Satsuki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imayoshi and Momoi are birds of a feather, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing actual lesbian porn is kinda weird because its the only thing that actually gets me going so it makes me blush

Satsuki is lounged out on Imayoshi’s bed, wearing her white tank top and striped panties (pink, how cute). Imayoshi watches her, appreciating the fall of her breasts against the thin material, the curve of her ass.

“Hey, Satsuki,” she says cheerily, swaying into the room. She can feel Satsuki’s eyes on her as she walks. Her outfit, after all, is carefully chosen – basketball shorts and a lacy, tiny bra.

“Finished with your shower?”

“Mm,” she hums. On her bed there’s various lewd objects, and Momoi lying in the middle. It looks like a scene from her various wet dreams. Imayoshi picks up one rather large strap on, fiddling with the black body.

Satsuki sees her stroking it, and lets out a snort. “What, again? We just did it half an hour ago.”

“I can’t help it, Satsuki. You’re so sexy, I just get so horny whenever I see you.”

She rolls on to her stomach, looking up at Imayoshi with humour in her eyes.

“You want me to fuck you again?”

“That is the idea, yes.”

Satsuki lets out a sigh, but Imayoshi can tell it’s just an act. For all that Momoi pretends to be much less horny, for lack of a better word, than her, Imayoshi knows that their libidos match up fairly well.

As expected, Satsuki acquiesces practically immediately, holding out a hand for the strap. She hands it over happily, watching with appreciation as Momoi fastens the straps around her hips, manicured hands running over the sleek black body.

There’s something very gorgeous about her, the way pastel pink hair falls in a wave down her back. Her brown eyes are almost red in the light, large and beautiful. Imayoshi helps her dye her hair, and also helps her get away with having her hair dyed. 

Momoi seems to encapsulate being a femme, which makes some sense, since she’s a lesbian. Imayoshi has never bothered to put a label on her attraction, but if she were to do so she supposed it would be bisexual. 

She doesn’t know what the bi equivalent of a butch is, but she does know that whatever it is, she probably encapsulates that. 

Musings on sexuality and such are interrupted as Satsuki grabs her arm and playfully flings her to the bed. She bounces on the stupidly fluffy mattress (it’s how she likes it, and she doesn’t want to be judged) and then settles.

Momoi hovers over her, hands on the waistband of her basketball shorts. They’re pulled off in one swift movement, and Satsuki lets out a brief exhale of laughter when she sees Imayoshi hasn’t bothered to put on panties.

For all that she’s a femme, Satsuki keeps her nails clipped fairly short, and immaculately clean. They slide into her easily, because she’s still pretty relaxed. From there, it’s an insane, decadent pleasure.

Guys usually don’t finger her. If they do, the express purpose is to get her loose enough to accommodate them. Momoi fingers her with a sort of determination, as if she’s dead set on Imayoshi experiencing as much pleasure as possible.

And boy, Imayoshi does.

It feels like hours before Satsuki finally pulls away, fingers drenched in Shouichi’s cum. Its not over, though, of course not, and she pushes in with a single, gentle jerk of her hips.

That’s the thing, isn’t it. Satsuki, for the most part, is gentle. Not gentle in the way some guys try to be, a way that seems like they’re just looking down on you, but just… calm. They’re equals, on equal footing in intelligence and deviousness, but there is no competition.

It’s just nice, it’s just fucking for the sake of pleasure. The only feelings involved are friendship and lust, and it’s wonderful. 

She holds Momoi’s body close to her own, and basks in both the heat and pleasure.


End file.
